Life
by BRRIII
Summary: Fang and Iggy are a duo of demise. They're hit-men; paid to kill. It's the only profession they've ever known. But when a high-paying job leaves them on the opposite end of the spectrum, how will they react to their sudden wealth? And when a girl shows up and changes one's perspective, how will he react? And what is this ecstatic, yet ominous feel he gets around her?
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey guys! New story here. No wings, which is a bit rare for me. But I'm really going to put a lot into this one, I think. I think I've got a pretty good plot line set up in my head. So, hope you guys like it! Note: this first chapter is a bunch of philosophy that I came up with one night while I was bored. Though I thought it was a great way to start off this story! So, enjoy my rambling in this chapter! Lol**_

It's been suggested I do a disclaimer, so, quite obviously, I don't own Maximum Ride. However I do own this plotline. So, enjoy (:

Life. A problem, an enigma, beautiful, ugly, inevitable, finite, multiplicative, singular.

Is life just the span from which one is born and one dies? Is it just a display for an omnipresent deity to spectate? Or maybe a test for such a deity to classify you as worthy or unworthy of an afterlife. If everything made of cells has life at one point, then how valuable is it really? Are we simply walking through this life waiting for death to take us?

Death. The blessing and the tragedy.

Some say death is simply the absence of life. However, I dare to oppose it sternly. Life does not change death. You are not dead before life materializes and then suddenly life takes its role. The fact is, you are born heart beating, lungs breathing: _living. _ It is not until death makes its presence is that changed. And so I say, death is not the absence of life, but life the absence of death.

That being said, this means life is nothing but a negation of it's corresponding counterpart. Should it be given a definition, it would be identified as nothing more. Simply the absence of death. An absence. So, in a sense, life's meaning is in direct relation with death. In this case, life's worth would be defined by the span before death takes it. Which we have no control over. It's all about luck.

All of this adds up to one fact: we have no control over the worth of our life.

However, one's life is worthy because of the actions one makes. That seems like an agreeable point. So, why is it that the meaning of it would suggest otherwise? Perhaps it's not how long it is before death takes the person, but the ease death has in taking the person that defines their life's worth. Let me elaborate:

The people who love you most, the people who protect you, the people who would die for you: those are the things that make death's journey difficult. They are death's enemies or obstacles, if you will. Now, those who despise you with reason, those who tried to care but couldn't, those who you've done wrong: those are death's allies. Those who despise without reason are inconsequential. However, the ones who have a reason; they give death an opportunity. Not to say they wish you dead or plan your death, however they improve death's morale. With too many of these, death's obstacles are meaningless.

Life is also meaningless.

Think about it, life is the absence of death. An absence. Literally meaning nothing. Given that, why do we all try so hard? Why do we have a conscience? Guilt? Emotions at all? After all, the thing called life that we all cherish so much is literally nothing. However, there is one question that can't go overlooked. How can nothing have worth?

And so I come to this conclusion. Life is meaningless. Life by itself means literally nothing. The person living the life, however, their actions, other's help, and perhaps a little bit of luck make a life worth living. With enough of these things, they can even make a life notable.

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	2. Chapter 2

_**This is the first real chapter of the story. The first part that's actually in the storyline. Enjoy!**_

"Blond or brunette?"

My accomplice continued to fiddle with the contraption in front of him. His skillful hands moved incessantly, readying the machine for its purpose. For most, calibrating the mechanism would be a quite difficult task. However my partner was advanced in his expertise, and could not only hold, but initiate a conversation whilst messing with it. The skillful part? Great. The initiating conversation thing? Not my forte.

"No preference," I said. He repositioned himself to another facet of the machine and kept working. I glanced out the window, grandiloquently decorated. This whole place was like that. Far too many strictly ornamental items in here for my liking. I can't believe one would waste all of their money on these things. I mean, one or two things just to look at aren't too much trouble. But it seems like here they spent money just to spend it.

As you may have guessed by now, this is not my house. Nor is it Iggy's.

Iggy gave my reply a bored glance. "I'm more of a brunette man, myself. I don't know; I just kinda like it. Plus, a good-looking brunette isn't necessarily a total dunce. If it's a good-looking blond? Forget about it. Prepare to spend the rest of the night explaining what everything is and talking down to them." I gave half a grin to him as I took another glance out the window.

It was pitch dark in this place. That's how big the house was. I'd consider this thing a mansion, actually. It's two stories tall, but ridiculously wide. It takes up at least two house spaces, quite possibly three. My keen night-vision was the only way I could spot anything. That's how I registered all of the ornate junk around here. I was the look-out, making sure that no one drove up while Iggy was making his mechanism. It was a surprise, after all.

"Personality or appearance?" I rolled my eyes.

"No preference." Once again, my answer didn't enthuse him. He simply went right along with his rationality.

"I prefer appearance. You know, I don't do relationships. I do hit and runs. Even when I was younger I never did have long relationships. Back in high school, the girls had a competition to see who'd last the longest. Because I was too attractive to let down, but they knew better than to think that I was going to stay with them. Longest relationship lasted two months." I simply stared blankly out the window while he told of his preferences. This conversation disinterested me.

"Eye color?" he asked, seemingly begging for an answer. I rolled my eyes once more.

"No preference," I said, losing patience. He seemed a bit frustrated and then started talking again.

"Okay, one last question. Men or women?" I chuckled slightly.

"Okay, that one is women."

"I don't get you. You're just so uptight. And you _never _talk about girls or past relationships, or even if you think a girl's hot." I shrugged just as he stood, apparently done preparing the machine.

"I don't know," I said, slinging his heavy bag full of tools over my shoulder. I was more of the heavy-lifter and bodyguard of this operation. What operation, you might ask? Well, you'll figure out soon enough. Iggy and I started walking out the door, "I'm not like you." He chuckled.

"So you _are_ gay?" I looked at him with a slightly amused face as I shut the door behind me.

"No."

"Come on, man. Just come out. There's nothing wrong with it. It's just me and you here." I actually started chuckling a little myself. A rare occasion.

"I'm not gay," I said. "I'm just not like you."

"So, you're looking for a long-term thing?" I thought about what words I wanted to use as we circled around the house. We didn't park in the driveway, but in the back of the house. Best way to get out without anyone knowing you were there. Once again, it's a surprise.

"No. The point is, I'm not looking," I said, "I'm just not one to look for approval, and I'm surely not one to be kept down by a woman. So, the one night stand thing takes approval, and otherwise it takes being pent up. And the fact is, I don't like either option." He gave me a slightly amused look.

"You know, for a hit-man, you really are kinda philosophical." I didn't respond as we found our seats in the car. I turned the key in the ignition and pulled off. Iggy suddenly let the previous conversation alleviate and explained the schematics of his machine.

"Now, the way it'll work is that there's a string attached to the inner mechanisms of the machine. When the door opens, the string will be pulled out, starting it. Now, I'll spare the specifics, but in short, string gets pulled, place goes..."

I kid you not, right on cue, there was an earth-shattering _"Boom!" _and if we were any closer it would've both busted our eardrums and flipped the car over. Iggy quickly rolled down the window (the old crank kind, seeing as I can hardly afford a red wagon, much less a recent car) and stared back at his masterpiece. He smiled and, seeing as we were all alone on the road, screamed with joy. I couldn't help but slap high fives with him.

"I love it when a plan comes together," he said. "Everyone's happy. He got his body and we've got our money." Seeing as we are hit-men, there was an actual client. We don't kill just for the fun of it. We kill for the money. And this client was a high-roller. I guess he owned a big company, and the head of a rival company had left his corporation to him in a will. Long story short, this guy wasn't nearly as appreciative of the competition as his counterpart was, and he wanted the company now. So, he gave us a solid million (_each_) to give this old bigwig an early funeral.

Well, him and everyone else within a half-mile radius, unfortunately. But a million bucks is a millions bucks. Plus, we're smart. We set their systems up so it looks like a gas leak. And Iggy uses easily combustible materials. So, once it blows, the machine was practically never there. Only a pile of ashes, once again, spread across a half-mile radius.

"In no less than 24 hours, we'll be living the good life, my friend," Iggy told me. I half-grinned, still driving down the road and trying to look casual. All the while replaying our alibi in my head. _We were at a job interview with John Mullis. He gave us a ride home, and we were there just in time to see the report on the news. Sad story, it was_.

Perfect.

Jonathon Mullis was the person who'd hired us to (ahem) _dispose of_, the victim. Truth be told, I don't even know the name of the other bigwig. Once I heard a million bucks, I tuned out. Now we're home sweet home. Lucky we learned early to ask for the money before the hit. Otherwise when you ask for it afterward, all you get is a threat to bust you. Which means it's our word over theirs, and people tend not to be too convinced by a scruffy man with a childhood filled with felonies, nor are they comfortable with a former jailbreak's word. By the way, I'm the scruffy one.

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	3. Chapter 3

"So, what are you gonna do first?" Iggy asked. I shook my head, completely spaced out as we simply drove down the road with no direction. What direction do we need? We're millionaires. I'd thought Iggy was asleep long ago. Maybe he was. But now he was awake and voluble. He looked to me groggily for an answer. I'd been driving for a good five hours, which now put us at four o'clock in the morning. Soon he and I would have to change shifts driving.

"I don't know," I said. And for the first time... probably _ever_... Iggy actually made me think about something. He actually asked me a question that got me contemplating. What would I do? I mean, I'm a millionaire now. I'd never even anticipated having enough money to get by, much less to have this much. But I know if I don't use it right, it'll be gone before I know it. I'd seen it one too many times; someone who's been poor their whole life stumbles upon a great amount of money, and granted they've never had that kind of money, they just spend it left and right. Before they know it, they've wasted it all, and they're worse off than they were before.

I guess my answer to Iggy's question would boil down to a different question. How do I avoid that happening?

"Well, how about a road trip?" he said. I gave him a quick glance. If one of us would be considered the leader of this operation, it was probably me. As displayed here, seeing as he was asking for approval of this idea. He may be more intelligent when it comes to mechanics, but when it comes to pretty much anything else, I've got him stumped. That would include street smarts and good decisions.

"Heck," I said, "What's stopping us?" He grinned wide and held a hand out for a high five. I took the gesture and kept driving. I pulled into an exit off the highway and started looking around at the places. Iggy gave me a confused glance.

"Where are we stopping?" he asked.

"First off, we're getting some food," I said. "_Real _food. My whole life I've had to eat other people's left-overs. Never once have I had a meal that was meant to be mine. I'm going to McDonald's and ordering the largest piece of meat they have." He chuckled lightly, "And second, we're gonna need a GPS if we're going on a road trip." I quickly found the first golden arches I could and pulled into the parking lot. Iggy and I rushed in and did, in fact, order the largest piece of meat they had. Three times.

"I'm starting to like this life already," Iggy said. I grinned a little. "So, what's the game plan, captain?" I thought for a moment.

"Well, a few things that I figure we need before going on a road trip would be, of course, a GPS. Probably a laptop. Some cheap cellphones to keep in touch if we split up," I thought for a few seconds, "And that's about it."

"Why do the cellphones need to be cheap?" he asked, "I mean, we're millionaires. No reason we can't get at least a reasonable smart-phone." I shrugged.

"Okay, _you _can get yourself a smart-phone if you want. _I _will get a regular phone, because if I wanted a smart-phone, I wouldn't really need a laptop. And things are much easier on lap-tops." He laughed momentarily.

"You can't get Temple Run on a laptop though." I rolled my eyes and grinned.

"You're gonna pay an extra hundred dollars for Temple Run?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"If that's how you want to put it." I held my hands up in defeat.

"Do what you want." He had a sudden look of interest on his face.

"Wait, you can find people on laptops, right?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I suppose so." He smiled wide.

"We can visit our folks!" My interest in this road trip had dropped harshly at that subject. However, I played it off.

"Yeah, you can visit your parents, man," I said, forcing a smile. He shook my shoulders.

"No, you can too! We can find them!" he said. I shrugged.

"No," I said, "They're busy people." He gave me a serious look.

"They haven't seen you in a decade. You can't pretend like your own parents would be too busy to see the son they haven't seen in decades." I shrugged again, not giving a response this time. I quickly changed the subject.

"Well, we better get popping on that GPS and computer," I said, leaving the building without letting him try to stop me. He seemingly caught the drift, following me wordlessly.

Well, I'll spare you the details on the purchase of the lap top, phones and GPS. Just imagine two technologically declined 25-year-olds trying to purchase their first ever laptop, cellphone and GPS. Let's just say there were many dumb questions to be asked, and many strange phrases to be explained. Like I care how many Gs are in the phone. They also convinced us to buy a mobile Internet hot-spot thing, so we can always be on the web. Because, little did I know, it takes more than a computer to actually get on the web. If you don't have Internet (which I thought was kind of built in), all you can really do is play Solitaire. You can see how hard a time that the salesman was having.

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	4. Chapter 4

_**Alright, new update. This is where the story gets going a little better. And there's a reason that I never do explain some things. That's because they're to be explained later ;) Anyways, you guys get to reading :DD **_

"Would you stop playing games on the computer and do what you're supposed to be doing," Iggy mocked, now in the driver's seat of the car. I still hadn't slept in 24 hours. Well, it'd really been much longer than that, but I still hadn't laid down and just breathed for a while in 24 hours. I was on the computer actually doing something productive, despite popular belief. He was only saying that because I'd scolded him for doing just what he was accusing me of. I glance over at him momentarily.

"_You _were playing games_. I _am actually doing something." As a matter of fact, I was trying to find the whereabouts of our next destination. Which, though Iggy didn't know it, was his parent's house. I was going to change the GPS destination whenever we stopped next. Where was our destination right now, you might ask? Well, where would two young, wealthy criminals go for a little fun? You guessed it.

Vegas.

Of course, we're driving there from New York, so it'll take quite a while. Luckily, Iggy is even worse at American geography than I am, and he wouldn't know the difference if we went to Nevada or to Maine. Then of course, I wouldn't know the difference either if I wasn't looking at a map of the US as we speak. That's what I call patriotism.

I glared out the window momentarily. For the first time in my life, I wasn't in the streets of New York. I'd actually never been outside of the city that I lived in. I don't know what it was, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Now, as I looked out the window, I didn't see the ghettos I was accustomed to. Actually, I saw just blank plains of grass. And it was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. There wasn't a crumbling building or beat up car in sight. That was the most amazing thing about it.

I flicked my eyes back down to the computer screen. After so many hours of rigorous searching, I finally had it. I had an educated guess at Iggy's parents. He'd given me their names in a story he told me long ago. First thing I did was type that in a reverse phone look up website. Now, given the fact we don't even know what state they live in, there are quite a few couples by the name of Jack and Nancy Creek. I discovered that quickly.

You may not have known this, but Iggy had run away from home when he was sixteen. We actually wouldn't have met otherwise. Funny thing, we actually met _and _found our profession because of each other. I was apparently in an adequate position to murder someone Iggy didn't find very favorable, and so I found my... _knack _for murder. I wouldn't call it a favorable knack, but it's a knack, nonetheless. He, in a sense, convinced me to become a hit-man.

After I'd gotten well into my career path, I'd needed a bit of help. I needed to dispose of many people in one trip. Of course, you can't really just get them one at a time, because one of them will get loose, which would make them show signs of resistance, which would lead police into seeing that it was a murder. The best way to make sure you're not convicted as a murderer, is to make it so that there was no murder. Anyways, I needed to kill a few people at once.

Well, Iggy's bomb-making expertise came in handy, at that point.

Once he saw how much money you could get for this kind of job, and how simple it could be with the right mindset, he was set as my hit-man partner for the rest of his life. He was the more crafty killer, himself. Which is best, I suppose. Me? I prefer the old-fashioned assassin approach. You know, creeping in the night and being there for the murder. Then of course, that's not good for being sly about it. So, I suppose it's best that Iggy's my partner, otherwise I'd probably be locked up by now.

Anyways, back to how I'd found Iggy's potential parents. Well, I searched the police reports for runaways 9 years ago. Coincidentally, in a little town called Oak's Edge in Colorado, there was a 16-year-old boy who'd run away from home. Who were the people that called in? None other than a married couple by the name of Jack and Nancy Creek. And if that's not enough, there was an age progression poster, which showed what he might look like at age nineteen (which is when Iggy and I met). It looked exactly like he did.

Now, it gave a phone number to call if we found this person. So, I looked up the phone number and it was a mobile number. A mobile number still in the possession of Mrs. Creek. By looking up that number, I got names, addresses, other family members, even other numbers related to the phone. It was perfect. I grinned and bookmarked the page. I quickly typed in the website Iggy had been on earlier playing games.

"_Now _I'm playing games." I grabbed the GPS off the front windshield of the car, hearing a _pop_ as the suction cup was removed. I typed in the address to the house that the site had told me. I put the mount back on the window and locked the suction cup on. "There. That's the address to the hotel in Vegas." He grinned and drove on wordlessly.

And so I played computer games while Iggy kept driving.

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	5. Chapter 5

_**Alright, so, this chapter isn't from Fang's perspective, it's from a girl named Samantha's ^-^ As for who Samantha is, you'll find out in the chapter. So, get to reading :DD **_

I paced back and forth in the waiting room. I was scared. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I was so, terribly, awfully scared. I almost died. I was almost murdered, and the only reason I wasn't was because someone else took the hit for me. Our maid. She was cremated. Not by hers, nor her family's wishes, by the way. A bomb with a power that of the nuclear variety had gone off inside our house when she took her night shift.

I could see my father in the evidence room. What evidence was there to search? Everything within a half-mile radius was turned to ash on impact of the explosion. What in the world was left to search? We were hopeless. There's no way we're going to catch these guys. And as soon as they catch wind that we aren't dead, they're going to be right back after us. We're destined to be on the run for the rest of our lives...

Suddenly, I saw a familiar face walk through the door of the police station. It was John Richards. I groaned. He _hated _us; what is he doing here? He caught eye of me and he looked crushed at my expression. I forgot to change my expression when he walked through the door. He came beside me and, perhaps legitimately, felt empathy. "Oh my," he said, "Samantha?" I nodded. The witness protection had my father's and my name changed to ensure some safety until we figured some of this out. Of course, I'm going to tell everyone I meet my real name, but on my bills and official documents, my name would be Samantha.

His hair, starting to look gray at his old age, was slicked back in business fashion. "I heard you had a real close call there. I know your father and I have always had our controversy, and I'd hate to know that we'd never settled it and he had met his fate. So, I wanted to come here to call a truce. And maybe, perhaps, give a bit of a lead on the criminals behind this." I couldn't help it, my face expressed shock.

"Don't play with me, John," I said. He held his hands up.

"I'd never joke about this kind of thing. I honestly think I know who's behind it. Now, where's your father?" I glared at him.

"I'm going in with you," I said. I stood and entered the evidence room beside my father. As I entered, the cops looked at me and John and began to divert us away. My father stopped them.

"They can enter," he said. My father was oblivious to the fact that John hated our guts. Or at least, he did. He almost looked sincere in his apology earlier. However, I wouldn't be convinced so quickly. John smiled at my father. One of the policemen started explaining the situation so far.

"We couldn't restore any of the tapes from your security cameras, and the explosion contaminated any fingerprints he might have left. The blow was so big it disrupted the electric circuits in the area, so the street cameras were also deactivated. We couldn't catch anyone fleeing the crime scene. There were no witnesses on any streets nearby. I'm afraid there's just no evidence we can find." The cop looked almost depressed, and I couldn't help but mimic his countenance. A cop came behind him and touched his shoulder.

"Yet," he said encouragingly. I still sighed, and John came from behind me and started speaking.

"I think I might have the slightest idea of who might have done it," he said. The police looked ecstatic, but they weren't so hopeful yet. John pulled two pictures out of his pocket and displayed them to the policemen. The policemen grabbed the pictures and showed them to my father. His brow scrunched.

"I've never seen these two people in my life," he said. The cops looked at each other skeptically, then showed me the pictures. They were two boys, both seemingly around my age. One was scruffy with dark hair. From what I could see (about mid-chest up) he was quite muscularly built. That was a characteristic of a criminal, I'd think. The other was less built, but very tall and slender. He had spiky strawberry blond hair. He was very pale. Though they were both very characteristic, I'd never seen either of them. I shook my head, immediately erasing their images from my mind. They weren't them.

"I realize neither of you have ever seen them, however I think there are one too many coincidences that went on here. First, I own the bank downtown that they keep their money in. Extremely early this morning, at probably 12:00, they set up an account on-line, only to take all of their money out of the bank electronically. They then canceled the account. Somehow, they managed to make an account without giving a phone number, name, or really any other information that could be used to track them. We couldn't even extract the IP address. It was strange."

"12:00?" one of the policemen asked. John nodded.

"That was less than an hour after the attack," the other said. John smiled.

"Do you think that it's them?" John asked. One of the policemen looked at him.

"I think it's worth a shot. But, you're going to have to give us some more information," the cop answered. He smiled.

"Definitely."

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	6. AU

_**Hey guys. So, I really hate to do this, but I'm totally going to product place in the middle of this story XD I feel like such a hypocrite, but I feel like this kind of applies to you guys. So, you guys liked Fang's blog, right? Well, I know I did. I was so bummed out when I saw that it stopped posting and changed it to maxdanwiz. Well, I decided since I hate the fact it's gone now, then I should do something about it.**_

_**So you see where this is going…**_

_**Well, I'm starting a blog I guess kind of like Fang's blog. I'm gonna do my best to portray Fang's attitude in all posts and stuff. I hope you guys don't think this is stupid. I just know that there are other people like me who would like the adventure to continue, even in such a small way. So, check it out, you guys. You should definitely inbox me some questions so that I can do a whole Fang Q&A thing. I know everyone loved that in the book.**_

_**So, don't hate me, just check it out. I just started it, so it's going to be kinda empty for a while. But once we get a lot of followers on it, it might be consistently updated. Here's the address:**_

_**intermittentintasia . blogspot . com (remove spaces of course)**_

_**By the way, just as a copyright thing, I don't own Maximum Ride or pretty much anything in any way, shape, or form.**_


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